


Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl

by toastyCadenza



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - Troll/Human coexistence on Earth, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-17
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 23:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastyCadenza/pseuds/toastyCadenza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>a girl goes on an adventure</em><br/>after the passing of her grandfather, 17 year old jade harley leaves her home with only her dog by her side -- having been confined all her life, there's far more to the world than she ever expected to discover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Now You're All Gone

**Author's Note:**

> may it be known that ^THAT is by far the most cliche sounding summary i've ever written ever in my entirety of all time in history. in fact i think i made it sound even less interesting than i intend for it to be oh gosh  
> p.s. gomen if the first bit induces any feels

Your name is Jade Harley and last night, your grandfather passed away.

Nothing theatrical really, and anything but dramatic... In fact, it was rather peaceful. 

The air was filled with silence, everything becoming still, on pace with the quickening hush that was overcoming his pulse -- his pulse, his breath, his movement, his heart, as well as every last bit of feeling. Every moment and experience fading to mere memory: it felt as if the entire world was becoming motionless with him, slowing to a halt on it's axis. 

He sat in front of the fireplace, the same place he so often sat. Such a substantially acquainted scene: it ran on such familiarity, thriving on routine; when the time finally came for drastic change, the differences crept by seemingly unnoticed. In a way it seemed fitting that this also be the place he'd spend his final hour.

If you were being honest, you knew this was going to happen sooner as opposed to later. Grandpa Harley, while increasingly old, spent the days of his youth adventuring the uncharted islands of the Pacific. You never met your parents; they died adventuring the Atlantic (shortly after your birth) and left you in the hands of your grandfather, the only known family you had left. As soon as you changed hands, your grandpa gave up the daring lifestyle to raise you. Left the islands of the Pacific, and settled closer to where your parent's had resided. He ended up having Harley Manor built in what was once the City of Cape Canaveral. 

It had apparently been years since there was anything worth classifying as a community in Cape Canaveral -- what used to be homes and residency had been demolished, replaced by tropical forests and wildlife. The only thing that really kept it's ground was the Kennedy Space Center -- no one would dare tear down something so historical, not to mention useful.   

Harley Manor was built somewhere right in the middle of the wood that was once Cape Canaveral City, Florida. Built excessively large for a home that was only housing two people and a dog -- but so long as there was money, it would be unheard of for Grandpa to pass up extra space to store every trophy he's collected in his entire life, as well as every gun. The man was ridiculous (this isn't news to you). 

For someone that had spent the bulk of his life looking danger dead in the eyes, he was incessantly protective of you. Although that phrase doesn't do justice just _how_  overprotective of you he really was.

To start, you had been homeschooled your entire life. You were academically sound, knowledge that could surpass most your age. Despite that, you've had little to no social experience. And the fact that your grandpa also had you train in arms combat -- drilling until your skill level was satisfactory to him -- would probably intimidate a few people. 

You felt bad about not crying when you discovered Grandpa Harley was dead. 

There wasn't much room to feel bad though, you just sort of felt empty. He was all you ever really knew; more than that, he was all you ever really _had._  Apart from him and Bec, all you had was stories and games -- miniscule glimpses of the outside world. 

What were you gonna do, stick around? 

Of course not. Adventure is your heritage: it's what you were raised by, it's where you were born, it's what you came from and it runs through your veins. You're the very _embodiment_ of adventure. Damn if you sit around waiting for a rescue. 

You'll be your own damn rescue. 

It's about time you finally leave this perpetual hindrance of a house.


	2. Got Your Makeup On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which jade isn't quite sure how to tackle the situation at hand  
> alternatively: how exactly does one prepare for a life long journey

Where the hell do you even start?

It’s not as though you’ve ever gone on an extended trip before (and by extended trip, you mean that you’re leaving for good). Should you pack a bag? A suitcase? A lunch, maybe? … 

You're starting to feel rather silly about this whole thing.

Think: necessities. If you leave with no intentions of coming back, what couldn’t you bear to part with? Well, the answer to that was easy… You didn’t want to part with anything. Not if you could help it. But you can’t help it, you’re going to have to leave more than most of all of your belongings behind. 

You stand at the head of your bedroom, both hands knuckled and resting on their respective hip. A sigh escapes your breath, and if you weren’t mistaken, you’d almost pin it for a sigh of defeat. 

Mentally you punch yourself, because THERE’LL BE NO ROOM FOR THAT MISSY!! You’re on a mission and giving up isn’t an option. It isn’t even a fall back plan. Giving up is nowhere to be seen on any plan of action that could possibly be thought up ever. 

There’s too much you’d be giving up if you just caved whenever business got too hot to handle. Or that is, just hot enough for the handling. Nothing can get too hot to handle if you have no choice but to handle it anyway. 

Breathe no woak ok, perhaps you’re getting a tad ahead of yourself here. You’re pushing yourself to the limit only in thought and you’re already stressing yourself out. You haven’t even gotten to the front door yet! 

You groan; it’s becoming increasingly apparent that this might be more complicated than you intended for it to be. Whether that be your own fault, you decide not to think about. Here’s to hoping you don’t pull your hair out in the process. 

Panning out your view across the entirety of your room, a subtle throbbing develops in your chest. It aches, having to leave so mach of what you grew up with behind. It was by the combined forces of each and everything in this room that helped mold you into the person you are now, standing with your head tilted slightly in thought, impatiently tapping your foot. 

"I think I'll just start from scratch, maybe?" Your eyes dart all over the place like they're gonna find the answers to all of your questions. Of course you're let down, because why would staring at a room full of junk solve all your problems? "Augh!" You huff in frustration, bringing a hand up to habitually run your fingers through your hair, coming to rest the top of your forehead in the palm of your hand. "Bec, I wish you could talk. That would just be fricking awesome right now." You direct at the white-fur German Shepard that occupied the length of your bed. He cocked his head at you. "Because I could really go for someone pointing me in the right direction about now." You slump a bit and Bec whines. "Not that it wouldn't be super cool if you could talk in general, boy. I'd love to be able to talk to my best friend!"

The nerves momentarily being shaken from your demeanor, you allow yourself to fall prey to lighthearted ambiance that Bec was emitting. Any and all stress that weighed you down melted away the second you launched yourself onto your bed, playfully scratching up and down Bec's sides and tummy. It took virtually no effort to get Bec's tail wagging, panting gleefully at your affection. It made you smile. 

You would never feel thankful enough for having Bec around -- if not for his company, the loneliness that comes standard to you would be even more intense (you couldn't even imagine how depressed you'd be). Bec keeps you optimistic and upbeat! What would you be without him? 

"Good dog, best friend," You mumble sweetly into his fur. He rolls over and licks your arms, requiting all the love.

You bring yourself to an abrupt halt. "DAMMIT BEC, I've got to figure this out I don't have all millennium! If I don't start deciding what to bring with me I... I'll..." There's no stopping what comes next (not that you saw it coming in the first place). You crumple over and fall right asleep, practically on top of Becquerel no less.

Narcolepsy was such an awkward thing to deal with. To start, instances in which you randomly fall asleep are referred to as "sleep attacks." You just can't get over how silly that sounds. For a cozy, comfy, calm thing like sleep to ATTACK unsuspecting victims... It just made you giggle. It doesn't quite sound like a real problem, now does it?

You suppose, if you had a job or other pressing duties to attend to, that you could see why a disorder such as Narcolepsy would impose on such responsibilities. But you're seventeen years old with no set goals and nothing deterring from the journey ahead, abnormal slumber tendencies aren't even worth your worrying.

You dream that you're traveling beyond Earth, out into space and across the galaxy. Planet to planet, surrounded by the stars, unveiling the unknown -- of course, this could only be the product of a dream. You were always fascinated by outer space (more specifically, astrology). Science always being your strongest subject as well as your strongest passion, the extra terrestrial captivated you.

Products of your imagination ever short-lived, the waking world beckons you back -- quite forcefully, really. Grappling you by the collar, reality pulled you back to the viewing surface... A vexing reminder that hey, you got shit to do.

Okay, last straw, this is it!!! Quickly back on your feet and ready for action, you stand strong, first raised to the air in determination. "Okay Bec no more screwin' around, it's now or never!!" You cry, volume at unnecessary levels for the confinement of your room.

No! That'll be the first to go, you decide. This _confinement._ It's clearly restricting you from making a proper decision!

Each stride toward the door of your bedroom filled with purpose, you kick open the door, without so much as a single speck of of hesitation in you. Next, all the windows have to be flung open, and in no time the room is feeling more open (as expected, of course. What else could've even happened?) With the raw outdoor air penetrating the now-exposed bedroom walls came breath -- the air was thick and moist with humidity, taxing from the heat of the tropic forest surrounding you. Of course to any average person it would have probably become more of a task to breathe through the heaviness of the atmosphere, but for you it was just the opposite. You've made yourself more vulnerable (so to speak) and the suffocation that wore you down from being so restricted was finally eased away. It almost set you free -- 

Almost.

There was still business to attend to! You shake yourself for getting distracted. "Concentrate, Jade. You can do this!" Evidently, growing up around no peers was perfect grounds for a tendency to talk to yourself on more than rare occasion.

It's time to push all stress and worrying aside, and with full assertion.

That decided, you set the gears whirring in your brain, narrowing options until you reach a starting point. The moment you come to a solution is comical, akin to something from a cartoon. It's silly but it should have been this simple from the damn beginning!

"Freaking duh! Travel light. All I'll need is a bag of whatever, and some cash!" Dammit Jade, you're a smart girl why couldn't you put this together from the beginning?! You smack your palm to your forehead repeatedly, grumbling to yourself whilst you try to find a bag suitable for your endeavor. 

The feeling of emptiness pitting itself in your stomach and growing ever so slowly was hard to ignore, but ignore it you did. Packing with you only a few changes of clothes (though gratuitous pairs of socks and panties) and a canteen, you collected all the cash you could from your grandfather's vault. The money turned out to be a bigger load than your clothes, and you had to sacrifice a few pairs of socks.

Feeling accomplished and full of purpose, you collected Bec and left the estate.

-

It was humid and thick outside, and though at first you were enthused, enjoyed the feeling of fresh outdoor air, it took little time for that notion to dwindle into nothingness. All you wanted was to be inside, where there was air conditioning and you could cool off. Bec panted heavily at your side as if in agreeance.

Thankfully for your sake, you found yourself emerging the tropic which enclosed Harley Manor, face to face with the outside world.

Like literally, it was right there in front of your face. In real life, not in a book or a movie. You suppress the urge to squeel with utter delight.

You fail to suppress the urge.

Motioning for Bec to follow, you bounded toward the city at full speed. What did it matter how much you were sweating? That couldn't have mattered less if it tried. You bolted straight ahead, with no intentions of looking back.

In the rush of adrenaline, it almost escaped you that you'd just run into an outdoor shopping outlet. You spun in every direction, taking in the simple sight of the display windows. Feeling intensely liberated, you let loose a howl of joy from the back of your throat; you had never felt more alive in your life.

As everything began to slow down, you took notice that the patrons of the shopping outlet were scarce. In fact, you didn't see anyone outside at all. You weren't quite sure what to make of it, but the observation made you feel a little bit uneasy. Where was everybody?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and right around here is where we get thrust into the actual story

**Author's Note:**

> work title and chapter title brought to you by: Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Girl - Broken Social Scene.  
> if i have any geographically incorrect information pertaining to the city of cape canaveral,  
> i hold that this is an alternate universe in which trolls and humans coexist on earth wherein shit might be different considering it's an au, henceforth: your argument is invalid uvu


End file.
